


Call It Even

by BewareTheIdes15



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Gay Chicken, M/M, Oral Sex, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week later, in the middle of inscribing his name on Jared's dick after entirely too many tequila shots, it occurs to Jensen that getting his best friend stupid-drunk to write on - and thus handle - his junk was a terrible plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call It Even

It started with "Hell House"; Sam and Dean pulling all of those pranks on each other put the idea in their heads and all of a sudden it was summer camp all over again. It was little stuff at first, salt in Jensen's coffee, hair spray replaced with spray deoderant, nothing that interfered with the show so nobody really said anything; just another one of 'those things Jensen and Jared do' - invariably said with an eyeroll.

Then there was the saran wrap incident and Sera had banned all pranks from set under threat of castration. Theoretically, that could have been the end of it, except that, well, they were both a little competitive - "show me a good loser and I'll show you a loser" - and after all, they did live together now, so suddenly, without the influence of the crew watching them, things took a very different turn.

It had been a pain in the ass when Harley 'somehow' ended up with one of Jensen's tennis shoes and tore it to bits, but then every white article of clothing Jared owned had mysteriously turned bright orange in the wash, so it was mostly ok. Then things had gotten a little weird.

When Jensen walked into his bedroom one night, dog tired and ready to collapse onto anything that held still long enough for him to sleep on it, he was, suffice to say, surprised to find a dildo laying on his pillow. Scratch that: a _giant, purple_ dildo, with realistic balls - if purple balls can be considered realistic, which, God, Jensen really hopes not - laying on his pillow. All of which would have been a little bit to the left of normal pranking for the sheer oddness factor and the fact that, at best, it was only going to make Jensen mildly uncomfortable. Then he'd touched it - because, hey, it was laying on his pillow and he kind of needed to move it - and realized not only was it giant and purple, it was lubed. Like, not just 'drizzled some lube over it for effect' but like thoroughly lubed, the kind of job you really couldn't do without getting your hands all over the thing.

Jensen never mentioned that particular incident to Jared and his roommate never brought it up either.

A week later, in the middle of inscribing his name on Jared's dick after entirely too many tequila shots, it occurs to Jensen that getting his best friend stupid-drunk to write on - and thus handle - his junk was maybe not helping to make this any less uncomfortably intimate. He's not really sure why he didn't notice that sooner. Fortunately Jared's the world's happiest, friendliest drunk, so he just giggles at the touch of the felt-tip marker even though Jensen never makes it past the 'J'. His fingers fucking smell like Jared and it's eight different kinds of wrong that he can't stop himself from jacking off to it later.

And all of that? Well, all of that was weird sliding steadily into troubling even before this.

Jensen steps into his room late in the evening - why does Jared always get to leave earlier than him? - to find obvious, wet Sasquatch-prints marring his floor in a steady trail from the bathroom. That's not the strangest thing in the world, it's certainly not the first time Jared's ever used his shower. What _is_ strange is that the bathroom door's still closed so that when Jensen turns the knob and opens it a crack, the room's still steamy. And it's not just steam; no, this steam has the unmistakable tinge of spunk in it and it should gross Jensen out way more than make his dick go hard.

Because there's something deeply and truly wrong with him, Jensen steps inside, the haze of wet air clearing fast with the cool blast from his bedroom and there it is, white and glistening on mint-green shower tiles like pornographic grafiti. Jared came. In Jensen's shower. And left it there.

He spends half and hour leaning against the bathroom counter trying to will away his insatiable hard-on and figure out how the hell he got to this headspace.

***

If he's being reasonable - and let's face it, he's not - Jensen is aware of how epically bad of a plan this is. For starters, when Jensen slips the little blue pill into the flask of tea masquerading as whiskey that Jared's drinking out of in this scene, it's while they're resetting the lights to go again _on this scene_. Yeah, almost positive that breaks the 'no pranks on set' rule. On the other hand, this is the last scene of the day and they've already done a couple dozen takes for all the different angles, so there can really only be one or two more run throughs of this before they can head out. No way the pill will kick in - very much - before then.

There's still the other little problem of the fact that he is, in fact, drugging his co-star/roommate/best friend and that's kind of not cool. He's not really worried about Jay having an allergic reaction to it or anything - the guy's not even allergic to poison ivy - but theoretically there's still a tiny chance. Mostly though, what's eating at him is that his reasons for doing it are just a tiny bit sketchy.

Sure, he owes Jared some big time payback for that shower thing - whatever game they're playing at stops being a game and starts getting really awkward if there's no good-natured retaliation - and thinking about Jared being stuck for a couple of hours with a boner that won't go away to teach him a lesson is pretty fucking funny. Problem is, it's also kind of hot. Yeah, _hot_. Jensen doesn't know how that happened.

If Jared notices anything off in the taste during the scene he doesn't say anything, though Jensen does notice him start to shift a little uncomfortably as the director goes over the call times for tomorrow. In the car, it gets worse; Jared slowly but steadily starting to squirm - to the point that Clif shoots them a look in the rearview and Jensen has to pretend he doesn't know what's going on. He's definitely _not_ trying to catch a glimpse of the front of Jared's pants out of the corner of his eye, but he wouldn't be able to if he was, not with the way Jared's got his hands crossed awkwardly over his lap.

Jay makes a beeline for the house before the van even rolls to a stop, bordering on terse with Clif which Jensen then has to shrug off and apologize to the driver for. By the time Jensen makes it into the house Jared's already upstairs, door closed behind him with two sad looking mutts staring up at it. He takes it upon himself to handle Jared's fatherly duties - maybe moving in together wasn't such a hot idea; they already acted too much like a couple before they went and threw in all the domesticity - and takes the dogs out back to play.

Jared's door is still shut when Jensen follows the panting mongrels back inside, not getting dinner in their bowls nearly fast enough to avoid getting slobbered all over as they dance impatiently around his feet.

Maybe this is for the best, he thinks, rinsing his hands off in the sink before making a break for his own room and maybe a nice long bath. Jared will just stay up in his room jacking it for however long the pill lasts and Jensen will stay in his own thinking about lots of things that aren't Jared's cock or what it size it might be in relation to the purple dildo still shoved - for no reason at all - in his nightstand drawer. Then tomorrow Jared will pull something new and stupid on Jensen and they'll both move on with pretending that Jensen did not intentional get and keep his best friend hard for an extended period of time. Because that would be gay. Which Jensen's almost 90% sure he's not.

Alright, fine, but at least, like, 62%.

That's the new plan, and a fine one it is, at least until Jensen walks into his room to find Jared laying on his bed with his hair ruffled and his cheeks flushed like he just had an epic orgasm a few minutes ago.

He's still clothed, which shifts this scenario over into the 'painful beating' category more than the 'living porno' one. It's almost astonishing how disappointing that is. It's not like Jensen actually expected Jared to jump him or something, right? He also looks like his eyes might suddenly go demon-black and Jensen suddenly wishes he had some salt. Evil or not, it might buy him a couple of seconds to run away if Jared gets some salt in his eye.

Has he mentioned how this was a less than rockin' plan?

"What did you do to me?" Jared asks darkly. His bare feet skid on Jensen's dark green coverlet as he spreads his legs a little - _not looking, not looking_ \- to let the light from the bedside lamp fall across the obvious, stiff line of his dick behind the zipper of his jeans. Not that Jensen sees any of that, because he's _not looking_.

The 'I don't know what you're talking about' excuse is pretty much out because, hello, obvious. Instead, Jensen opts for forcing out a grin that he hopes looks steadier than it feels and laughing back, "Man, you should see your face!"

Jared is not laughing. In fact, he's sort of staring, like he can see everything Jensen's thinking written on the underside of Jensen's skin. And he must like what he sees because now he's palming his cock and Jensen really doesn't mean to look put the motion catches his eye and then he's hypnotized by it.

A sound he doesn't recognize works its way out of Jared, more behind it than just a grunt of pleasure at the sensation, he just can't tell what that _more_ is and Jared's already wiped whatever it was out of his expression by the time Jensen drags his eyes back up above his friend's waist.

He doesn't remember moving, but he's standing by the bed all of a sudden, looking down at Jared's long, long fingers working over the bulge at the front of his pants, while his heart tries to jackhammer it's way out of his ribcage. Two of Jared's fingers tugging on his belt loop snaps him out of it. His gaze darts to eyes that really are almost demon-black, nothing but a thread of hazel around the edges to say it's Jared and not a pair of SFX contacts staring up at him.

"Still got a while to go on this, I'm guessing," Jared croaks out. He sounds wrecked, like he's been doing Sam's growly, 'you touched my brother, now you're gonna die' voice all day when Jensen knows he hasn't. Jensen's trying really hard not to think of other things Jared could do to make his voice sound that way. "Since you're the one who stuck me with this," Jared's hips hitch up against his own hand, forcing Jensen to look down at them again, "think you should be the one to take care of it."

Jensen's heart tries to do a backflip over to the other side of his chest. "What?" he mumbles incoherently, before managing to scrape together some semblance of a thought process despite every blood cell in his body deserting to the sanctuary of his cock at once. "Jay, it's not gonna help, it just has t-"

"Jensen," Jared cuts him off, the name going breathy on his lips, "Shut up and get a hand on my dick."

It's really hard to argue with that.

Tentatively Jensen reaches a hand out, fingertips stopping close enough to feel the heat where Jared just moved his own hand away to uncover his denim-restrained hard-on. Jared arches up under him, hand clamping down on top of Jensen's to force him to touch. The warmth of it seems to seep into his bones, right along with the quiet moan Jared loses as he grinds up against Jensen's palm.

It takes a minute for Jensen to get with the program, tightening his grip as best he can around the rigid flesh, rubbing at it with the heel of his palm. It's different and bizarre to do it from this angle; to do it and not be able to feel it. He's never touched anyone else's dick before and it's seriously freaking him out a lot less than he'd have banked on. Especially with Jared's breath steadily leaking out on these tiny noises that make Jensen hungry for some friction of his own.

Not that Jared's not touching him, it's just not in the place he really needs it. Jared's hand - holy fuck, how has he known the guy for this long and never considered how much acreage those damn hands can cover? - is roving along the backs of Jensen's thighs where he's kneeling on the bed now, up over his hips and onto his back, between his shoulder blades, lingering for a moment at the small of Jensen's back like he honestly expects Jensen to stop him, before sliding down over the curve of his ass. His jeans don't have nearly enough give for the couple of fingers Jared drags hard up the back seam to do anything but give Jensen ideas. He's never really been into the ass-play thing before, but he's suddenly more than willing to give it a shot.

But apparently, that's not what Jay has in mind.

"You ever sucked cock before?" he groans, freehand scrubbing over the sharp points of his own nipples through his shirt. The heat that's steaming up Jensen's veins swamps his lungs so heavily he can't even breathe around it. The best he can do is to numbly shake his head.

Jared smirks, eyelids heavy with something that definitely wasn't in that pill Jensen slipped him. "Then it's about time you learned."

Jared doesn't really push at the back of Jensen's neck, just nudges and Jensen goes because he doesn't know how not to. There's a pretty good chance his brain broke somewhere back over the span of the last couple of minutes and now he's running on nothing but what feels right.

His hard dick drags on denim as he crawls over between Jared's legs, gets himself down at the right level. Jared's doing all of the real heavy-lifting; getting his fly undone when Jensen just stares at it, trying to will it open with the power of his non-existent mind, pulling his length out when Jensen keeps right on staring and...

Ok, that's... Intimidating. Yeah, that's exactly the word for it. Jensen's secure in his masculinity and all, he's proud of what he's working with, but, seriously, wow. Jared's just... yeah. Wow.

Maybe some of that shell-shock is showing on his face - Jensen hasn't got enough blood above the waist to _feel_ his face - because Jared says, in a weird mix of comforting and desperate, "Just put it on your mouth, 's gonna feel good no matter what."

Jensen has some serious qualms about that - he _has_ been on the receiving end of a blow before and there are definitely some things that feel very not-good - but the confidence is appreciated, and besides, it would make him the worst kind of cock tease to get this far and not go through with it now. Also, his mouth is watering so damn hard he might die of dehydration if he doesn't plug it up with something.

The feel of the tip pressed to his lips is shocking in way it shouldn’t be considering _he’s_ the one putting it there. It’s incredibly warm and the skin's so soft even when the tissue underneath is rock hard. Tangentially, of course, he knows what dick feels like - he owns one and has got plenty friendly with it over the years - but having that feeling against his mouth is a whole other ball game – oh god, don’t even think about balls – especially with that little bit of slickness that’s definitely not his own spit wetting his lips.

Pushing a little more makes his lips pop open around the head and at some point much later maybe he’ll analyse why the feeling of Jared’s cock forcing its way into his mouth makes his sac threaten to unload into his briefs. The flavor is bitter and heady, mildly familiar from years and years ago when he first figured out what that thing between his legs was for and couldn’t resist the curiosity of a taste. The silkiness of flesh presses at him all over from the inside as he tries to remember to keep his lips covered and probably mostly fails because he’s never been much of a multi-tasker and there’s a lot going on at the moment.

He’s never given much thought to his mouth being small before, but then Jared’s fat cockhead touches the back of his throat and makes the whole works spasm like he’s gonna puke and he just can’t avoid being aware of how much of that is still not in his mouth. Not even _close_.

“’S ok. Just like that. That’s good, just…” Whatever other helpful advice Jared might have had gets ripped to shreds on a high whine when Jensen experimentally rolls his tongue against the underside. He’d really kind of like to know if this is a first for Jared too, or if all of this was some kind of intentional build up to something that’s been on his radar from the start. Then again, maybe he doesn’t want to know, because thinking about Jay being experienced – about him _getting_ experienced with a bunch of other dudes who are not, in any way, Jensen – makes a raw, blistering heat squirm along Jensen’s nerves that’s a lot more like possessiveness than he’s ready to deal with at the moment.

There’s spit building up in his mouth because he can’t seem to convince his body it’s ok to swallow while Jared’s still in there. Drooling is kind of sick, but he can’t do much about it either, so he tries to subtly let it dribble down over the unattended length of Jared’s cock and ignores the embarrassed blush heating up his cheeks.

The fangirls all seem to think he’s some kind of cocksucking savant or something, guess he’s proving them wrong and… Christ, what if Jared thought so too? This must be a serious fucking disappointment, and, sure, Jay knows it’s Jensen’s first time but what if he decides he doesn’t want to be Jensen's training wheels and _shit, shit, shit_! Teeth!

“Sorry, sorry,” he chokes out wetly, pulling off before he does some actual damage, but Jared’s hand is there like a reflex, pushing him back down and sweet glittery Jesus, there is absolutely no reason for that to smolder through Jensen the way it does.

“God, your mouth. Your fucking mouth.” Jared’s head tosses on the pillow like he’s being tortured, belied by the expression on his face like that ‘God’ he threw in wasn’t just for the sake of blasphemy. "Just, just suck it. Harder. C'mon, suck me dry. Fucking shit, Jen!"

His hips keep swirling in these tiny, aborted thrusts, as though it’s taking everything he’s got not to fuck up into Jensen’s mouth. A fact which Jensen genuinely appreciates because while the idea of Jared just using his mouth is hot – and goddamn, is it; he’d love to know when his brain got over this sexuality crisis and slid right into full-on gay for Jay mode – it would probably just end in traumatic injury.

On the plus side, it looks like maybe he’s not a complete loss on the giving head front.

It hits Jensen somewhere in there that this might go better if he did something with the other _how-many-inches-is-this-thing?_ of Jared’s dick that he’s not sloppily mouthing at. The drool actually helps quite a bit in that department, slicking the way when Jensen gets the remainder of the shaft fisted in one hand and starts jacking.

The flat of Jared’s palm hits the headboard loud enough that the clickity-click of doggy-nails rush to Jensen’s closed door, dancing around on the hardwood outside. They’re really going to have to make all this confusion up to the pups later.

Jensen huffs a small laugh which gets Jared pounding on the headboard again and this is actually kind of getting fun. _Dance, puppet, dance._

Humming earns an incomprehensible stream of babble pouring out of Jared’s mouth, bits and pieces of it that might be Jensen’s name. Ignoring the obscene sound his mouth makes when he really lets go and sucks shorts out the vague attempts at talking to helpless gasping. He’s got about a milisecond’s worth of warning before Jared flies over the edge completely, the flesh against his lips getting briefly, impossibly harder before wet, bitter heat is spurting out all over his mouth.

Staying there and letting it pool on his tongue is really just the polite thing to do. Also Jensen’s got fuck all for a thought process because _Jared’s coming in his mouth_ and he couldn’t pull together enough synapses to move if he wanted to.

Once he’s wrung the last of it out of Jared with his fist – thank you, body, for that helpful instinct – Jensen does finally pull off. There’s a really awkward moment where he genuinely has no clue what to do with the increasingly watery load in his mouth before he says screw it and spits it into a wad of the sheets.

It’s about four minutes later that he remembers that these are _his_ sheets. Ew.

Of course, by that time, he’s got Jared’s mouth all over his, tongue lapping his own taste out of Jensen’s. Significantly less ew. Actually, the complete absence of ew. Fuck but Jared kisses like he was built for it.

“I’m still pissed at you,” Jay slurs breathlessly around Jensen’s lips, rolling them over so he’s between Jensen’s legs, hard wing of his hip giving Jensen – _halle-fucking-luiah_ – something firm to rut his own neglected cock up against, “in case you were wondering.”

“Yeah, I can feel the hate,” is about as brilliant a retort as Jensen can come up with while humping his roommate like a bitch in heat. God, so close. Feels like his balls are actually swelling with each pound of his pulse.

“Fucking roofied me,” Jared counters, nibbling along the curve of Jensen’s neck like he’s had a lot of practice finding all the spots that make Jensen’s pleasure center light up like a switchboard.

And Jensen’s got something to say to that, he’s almost certain. What that might be, though, he couldn’t begin to guess because he’s suddenly entirely too busy creaming his jeans like a thirteen year old at a strip club.

“Mmmm,” Jared licks around the border of Jensen’s lips, covers his mouth just enough that they’re both sucking in the same overheated air. “Pretty when you come.”

Whatever sound that is that comes out of Jensen’s mouth next definitely isn’t English, but it makes Jared smile and rub their nose together anyway. Big fucking girl. Jensen's just going to ignore that little character bleed moment because right now he honestly isn't functioning enough to say with any real level of certainty that he's _not_ Dean Winchester.

He does, however, have enough going on upstairs to recognize the stiff heat pressing into his belly.

"Still?" he groans. Jared huffs and widens his eyes in response.

"Dude, I'm the one who's dick's getting sore over here. Suck it up."

"Already did that," Jensen smirks in return. His chest flashes hot, tight, like he's embarrassed when Jared's the one who put him up to it in the first place. Of course, Jensen's the one who drugged him, so... ah, fuck it. Just call it even.

"Well then I guess you're just gonna have to do it again, smart ass." Jared's positively grinning. Yeah, they're definitely going to have to talk about this maybe not-so-new development at some point. But maybe later. For right now, Jensen's content to wipe that smug twist off of Jared's mouth with his tongue and find out if Jared will make the same sweet noises for a hand as he does a mouth. 


End file.
